Home for the Holidays

This morning I was awakened by Julie singing "blue, pink, white, green" as she twirled in circles in her bed- turning the colors that she sees as she spins into a morning cantata.

Downstairs there was a loud thud, a yelp, and Trevor screeching, "Tell Alex to get off me! Mom! ALEX! Nooooo!!"

"Erika, did you ask to use my green scarf?"

"No, but did you ask to wear my purple sweater?"

Water gurgles through the pipes in my bedroom wall, and someone in the shower yelps and yells, "Don't flush the toilet! I'm freezing!"

The presents are opened, the cookies are done, and our Christmas bonding has just begun...

Merry Christmas

Dusk is a time that often goes unnoticed. Wednesday was no exception for me. Reading in the back seat, driving from one family to another, I had no reason to look up, out the window, other than the fact that the words on the page became increasingly dim. Though the fading light seemed only a subtle reminder of the passing time, my casual observation turned to wonder as I watched the sun sink in a bevy of golds, orange, and purple, deepening until the sky stood in velvety softness overhead, punctured by the hard glitter of December stars. And as I saw the canvas of the heavens change before my eyes, and as the subtle alterations smoothed day and night together, I could not help but gasp in awe at the powerful gentleness of my God. The care with which such a gorgeous transformation was brought about could not be performed by man were there a hundred men devoted for a hundred years to that one slip of the sun into night. And Jehovah had not even to say a word...

That God. That Creator. He came here. For nine months he grew as any baby grows within its mother. He was born. He was hungry as any baby is hungry. He walked. He fell. He learned. He laughed. He cried. As any baby. Just any baby.

But He was the God who commands the heavens.

And He did not stay a baby.

God is good.





Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign; Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel. (Isa. 7:14)

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. (Luke 2:14)

Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. (Rom. 5:1)

Merry Christmas...

Smitten in Finals

So, I'm in the library. (Yay, open 24 hours!) And I'm trying to be good, really I am. I'm going over the sentence production disorders again and trying to remember why I care that aphasic patients usually fail in the closed-class vocabulary recall, while at the same time showing varying degrees and forms of agrammatism, but it's really hard to focus with these people next to me.

They're sitting just in my peripheral vision. It's hard to ignore them...

The guy is clearly an engineer- he has a massive structures' book sitting open and useless in front of him. I haven't seen him look at his open binder of notes or this book once in the entire 3 hours he's been here, regardless of the fact that he supposedly has a final tomorrow.

The reason for this neglect is sitting right across the table from him.

She's obviously a liberal-artsy type. She has no books with her, except for a big one of colored art prints. She's talked about her studio classes and "horribly picky art-history prof" several times (ear-buds do not block out all conversation). She has failed to open her book (but let's face it, she probably doesn't need to...). (Side note: she talks about Harry Potter shamelessly. Are the children who were raised on this epic already coming to college? They're babies! What are they doing out of Jr. High? Shoot. She WAS in Jr. High when those books were released, actually, probably grade school. I feel old...)

Instead of studying, they're wrapped in deep conversation concerning high school hilarity, Christmas traditions, and the injustice of various professors. (Like either one really cares about the other's academic interests...)

As I plow fruitlessly though another pile of notes, I want to lean over and say,

"Honey, let him study or else you're not going to want to date him and his unemployable GPA."

And please stop talking so that the elusive bullet points of agrammatism will solidify in my recalcitrant memory...

Because...

Because he liked me when I had big bangs and a Goodwill wardrobe.
Because when I get angry, he tries not to laugh.
Because he wears the sweater and sports coat he knows that I like.
Because he cut his hair the way I like.
Because when people tell him that he's "whipped"- he shrugs and smiles.
Because he snorts when he laughs, just like me.
Because when I whine or complain, he gently points it out.
Because he can argue the difference between "justified" and "merited," but doesn't.
Because he'll fight with me about the little things (like a game of "pididdle"), but not about the big things.
Because he teaches in Wednesday Night kids of Faith and gets up at 7 a.m. to serve at church.
Because he loves logic, yet lets me be illogical.
Because he knows that he's a depraved sinner. And that I am too. And he still likes me.
Because he serves me HUGE bowls of Mackinac fudge ice cream.


And because after ten years of liking me, he's now my boyfriend. And he doesn't regret it, despite all the opportunities I give him to do so.



(Please pardon my infatuation...)

:)

Mini-Rant (which will be much larger the day grades come out)

So.

Purdue changed their grading scale.

While previously, 90-100% was an A (and anything in that range qualified you for a 4.0), they have revised it, making their system more sensitive. NOW only a 97% and above will qualify you for a 4.0. It is entirely possible, given the new grading schema, to graduate with straight A's and have a 3.7 show up on your transcript.

Forgive me if I sound like a whiney over-achiever, but speaking as someone who relies on the "90% is an A!" rule, I am very, very sad.

What brought this on?

Calculating my grade in one of my higher classes. I don't have an A+.

And I'm ticked.

And robbed of ever achieving a 4.0 in graduate school. (Because, seriously, who gets a 97% or greater in EVERY class? Or rather- who enjoys their existence while getting a 97% in every class?)

So much sadness...

Stupid sensitive scale.

Okay, so this is blatantly unbiblical. Don't ever listen to your heart. It's deceitful. But I still love this song...

Now I want to grow up...

Do you ever develop nebulous cravings? You're hungry, and you want a specific food item to satiate that hunger. But you can't put your finger on what that item may be? Mentally you run through all your favorite foods: "nachos... nope. chocolate... nope. chili... nope. double cheeseburger... nope. greek salad... nope." Hoping that while you're perusing your mental list, you'll stumble over that one thing which would satisfy your unnamed craving. (Okay, so maybe no one else does this and I just have issues. Surprise, surprise.)

In short, I've been having that "nebulous craving" in my writing. There is something- something that I need to say, need to write, need to express, that I'm unable to pin-point and transcribe. It's like an itch in the middle of your back- you just can't reach it.

Today, thanks to an honest friend, I discovered what it is I am to write. Humor me.

During this past semester, as readers may know, I have experienced what can only be described as a "trial by fire." (a.k.a. "graduate school") During this period, I allowed my self-sufficiency to dictate my chances of success and my daily pursuit of that success. Consequently, God in all his love and justice, allowed me to stumble, and fall with such frequency that (looking back) I appeared to be down more than I was up.

I've always thought of myself as an incredibly cheerful, bubbly person. That is probably because I've always had an easy, sunny life. It is very easy to be happy and content when there is nothing wrong in your existence. Oh sure, there were little bumps and trials, but nothing dark and eclipsing. Until this semester...

Everything was shot down- academics, health, success, money, control, men's approbation. Blips in one or two of these areas had come before. But never all at once. And this semester, for the first time, I experienced what could only be described as depression. I was crippled in a black cloud of failure, and I didn't want to move. Every day, I cried or burst into fits of anger at my helplessness. I lost my appetite, lost my desire to excel, lost my desire to work, lost my desire to do laundry and clean (poor roomie!).

But God taught me his sufficiency.

And although I raged at Him ("Why are you teaching me this lesson!?! It's stupid! I'm never going to learn it perfectly- not in my entire life. So why are you even trying? You're cruel!") He continued to teach.

And now, as I'm standing at another moment of indecision and uncertainty. (Nothing in my life is very certain as of yet... I have no idea where I will be in 14 months, or what I'll do within those 14 months.) I see, in a small, glimmer of a way, why He was so persistent. I may never perfectly learn the lesson of the sufficiency of my God. I may never lean with total and complete confidence on His plan and His will.

But I will lean a little more.

And with a little more leaning, comes a little more peace. And with a little more peace, comes a little more trust. And with a little more trust, comes a little more leaning. So that in future times of uncertainty (oh wait, that's what life is...), I will trust my Father.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. (James 1:2,3)

What girl WOULDN'T want to be a Disney Princess?

Note to self: NORMAL people like to crunch ice in the SUMMER. Clearly, I am not normal...